


Trust

by emeraldmad



Series: Sorcerer Arthur AU [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Angst, Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M, Magic Revealed, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-26 16:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20932925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldmad/pseuds/emeraldmad
Summary: He was born by magic, and thus, he was bound to have magic.Arthur is a sorcerer, and learns the hard way that he must hide it at all costs.(AKA an AU where everything is the same except Arthur is a sorcerer instead of Merlin)





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Here's an idea I've had for a while that I haven't seen yet (but I'm sure it's already been written). I really liked writing this because it gave me the opportunity to explore Arthur's character from a different perspective while still being true to his canon form—and also his relationship with Merlin in this new light. 
> 
> I hope you like it as much as I do :)

He was born by magic, and thus, he was bound to have magic.

How his father ignored this, he didn’t know. Perhaps it was a cruel joke from Nimueh, a play on Arthur’s fate for what Uther did to sorcerers after the death of Ygraine. Still, his father did not know about his magic, and Arthur had to keep it that way.

He first learned of his powers when he was seven. As a child, with a mourning King for a father, he had a lot of time for himself. He had caretakers, maids who would clean his room and play with him for a few hours, but most of the time he found himself alone in his room playing after training or with his nose buried in a book when he learned how to read. 

The day he discovered his powers, he was alone reading. It was a book about the Great Knights of Albion, a heavy tome with hundreds of pages narrating the life and deeds of all the men he’d grown to admire, and he’d been reading about Sir Gendery, a knight from the kingdom of Anglia, when a bird had flown into his room and knocked down a ceramic pot before flying out through the window again. Without realizing, he made the pot stop mid-air and hover an inch above the ground until he realized what he’d done, making it plummet into the ground and shatter into a million pieces. An old maid came in to nag him and clean up the mess, but he was too stunned to care.

He didn’t know why he had magic. The truth about his birth was hidden from him for many years, and up until he was told the truth he had always thought he’d been cursed by someone in a bid of revenge on his father. Despite this, he spent most of his alone time trying to learn his powers and control them. He knew no one could learn he had magic, not with how intent his father was on killing anyone with a minimal connection to magic. And so he managed to keep it secret for over a year.

* * *

There was a maid, Aria. She was sweet, smart and kind, only nine years older than him, and she treated him like her little brother. She was his favorite, always bringing him sweets and playing with him every time she could even if she wasn’t on duty. 

He’d asked her to get a book from the highest shelf that day, a big book with his favorite tales of Camelot, so she climbed onto a small wooden ladder to reach it. The book slipped from her hands and fell, but he held it in the air without thinking.

When he saw Aria’s face of disbelief, he burst into tears, letting the book settle on the floor with a thud and a cloud of dust.

She’d gotten down from the ladder and consoled him, told him she would keep his secret to the grave, but also made him promise he would not use his magic with anyone else but her. If it had been anyone else that found out, he would have been killed.

_ If you promise to be careful, _ she’d said, smiling softly and placing a kiss to the top of his head, _ I’ll find a spellbook and bring it to you, so you can learn more. You must know how to use your powers and control them, my prince. _

Weeks passed. He practiced his magic when he was alone, and showed Aria his progress when she took care of him with enthusiasm. While she cleaned his room she would sing of King Arthur, the Great Sorcerer of Camelot, and he would happily sing along. He was learning slowly, but he was getting better by the day.

Aria had shown him that having magic did not make him evil, and that had been exactly what he needed. 

One day, she came through the door with a bright smile on her face. _ I found you a spellbook, my prince. The greatest book of magic to exist, I’ve heard. I’ll pick it up tonight and bring it to you if all goes well. _

He was excited beyond belief. He would finally have a guide, a book to teach him the ways of magic and how to use it after such a long time. He hugged Aria tightly and bid her farewell, wishing her the best of luck.

She was caught that night with the book in her hands, rushing down an alley covered in a hood. Sentenced to die the next morning, he was told, for conspiring with a sorcerer.

When his father arrived at his room in the morning, his eyes were still red and swollen from crying.

_"I must apologize, Arthur. If I had known she was conspiring with a sorcerer she would never have gotten close to you. I put you in danger."_

He’d nodded, never raising his head to meet his father’s eyes. He couldn’t.

_"You will come to the execution with me. It is time for you to learn how these situations must be managed."_

So he watched her climb the steps and kneel, watched her raise her head and mutter an apology to him, and closed his eyes when the axe swung down above her.

He vowed to never use his magic again.

* * *

If he couldn’t use his magic to defend himself, he would learn to fight with weapons instead. He became a powerful warrior, the most skilled knight in Camelot. He won tournaments, slew beasts, trained other knights. People admired him, but he still lived with the burden of bearing magic in his veins.

He kept loyal to his vow. He had to watch sorcerers die in front of him for the rest of his life, faking disgust towards his own kind. He had to watch knights die from situations his magic could’ve avoided. He had to pretend hatred for years, knowing he had condemned himself to a lifetime of suffering. 

He was the loneliest he’d ever been, but keeping his secret was easy enough. Since he never had a personal servant or close friends he spent time with, he didn’t have to worry about lying to anyone he truly cared about. 

It was fine, really. 

And then came Merlin. 

They hadn’t started on the best of terms, unless chasing and whacking someone with a broom around town was taken as a ‘friendly meeting’, but they’d soon warmed up to each other until Merlin had become the closest thing to a friend Arthur had ever had. 

Merlin actually cared for him, trusted him and supported him, and deep inside Arthur did the same for him though he masked it for fear of getting Merlin in trouble. He didn’t want people to use Merlin’s connection to him to their advantage, as it had already happened before.

If there was ever someone he’d wanted to trust with his secret, it was Merlin. He knew he could do it; knew that Merlin had no ill feelings towards his kind, that Merlin would be okay with it. Merlin had always seemed to understand him, never questioning him when he dodged attending an execution because he’d gotten a sudden urge to go hunting and comforting him when he talked about how bad he felt after another sorcerer died. He knew no one else would take it better than Merlin, but something always held him back.

Every time he looked at Merlin with the words on his tongue, all he could see in Merlin’s blue eyes were Aria’s eyes, deep with sorrow as they looked up to him from the courtyard to mutter an apology flooded with tears. So he would go back to his room and sleep, dreaming her death over and over until it was Merlin kneeling on the hard stone outside, not Aria.

The last thing he needed was for the only person he cared about to die because of him.

* * *

When they were out on an expedition with other knights, bandits were never an issue. If they ever encountered them, they were defeated quick and easily, and no one was ever wounded. 

Now, though, they were the worst thing to happen. 

It was just him and Merlin, unfortunately. Arthur had wanted to go out for a ride to clear his head, maybe hunt something small as well, and of course, he took Merlin with him. Away from Camelot, it was the only place he could leave his title behind and be Merlin’s friend instead of his master. 

And then they’d gotten ambushed, because that was just their luck. 

Merlin stands a few feet away behind him, wielding a provisional sword rather clumsily as he fights one bandit while Arthur takes care of another two. The fourth one lies dead near his feet already. 

Block, move to the left, block, thrust. Bandit One is wounded, but not dead. Bandit Two looks tired. He glances quickly behind him to check if Merlin can fare against his own bandit, and is relieved to see him still alive. 

They can do this. 

Dodge, block, block, strike. Bandit One is knocked out on the ground. He hears Merlin grunt triumphantly behind him, and when he turns he sees his bandit fall dead on the ground. Bandit Two tries to go for his head but he quickly dodges and moves to his right, and then he swings his sword forward and right into the bandit’s ribs in a killing blow. Bandit two falls dead onto his side, blood spewing out of the wound below his arm. 

When he turns back to check on Merlin, he sees Bandit One charging straight for his manservant sword in hand from behind. 

_ “Merlin!” _ Without thinking, he raises one arm and sends the bandit flying through the air, crashing against a tree. He can feel the magic thrumming in his veins like an old song as the spell is cast. 

_ Shit. _

Merlin turns to look at him slowly, scared shitless. “Sire, how did that—“

And then, as Merlin’s eyes fall onto Arthur’s outstretched hand, the truth hits him. 

Arthur looks away, unable to look Merlin in the eyes now that his secret is out. As much as he’d wanted to confide in Merlin about his magic, he always knew that doing so was way too dangerous for both of them. 

He sees Merlin walk to him slowly and stand in front of him. “Arthur…” Merlin raises a hand but leaves it in the air, not knowing where to put it. “Please, look at me.”

Arthur raises his eyes to meet Merlin’s and prepares himself for the worst. 

“Arthur, do you have magic?”

He only nods. It’s like his tongue was cut off, his throat blocked with a heavy knot.

Merlin’s eyes soften. “Have you always had it?”

He nods again. He still can’t speak, or doesn’t want to. 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin says, and then he steps forward and wraps his arms around Arthur. The prince is startled at first, not knowing what to do, but after a few seconds, he leans into his friend and holds Merlin close. If there’s anyone he trusts with the truth, it’s Merlin. “Thank you for saving my life,” Merlin mutters, voice muffled against Arthur’s shoulders. 

“Could be a little more cautious next time,” he answers, and feels Merlin’s body shake with laughter. 

He smiles as Merlin takes a step back. “Oh, come on. You know I don’t know how to fight.”

Arthur shrugs and walks away, heading to look for their runaway horses. “You could always _ learn _, Merlin. Wouldn’t have to run around magically saving you and risking my arse.”

Merlin chuckles and follows behind him. “You’ve only done it once!”

“After over twelve years of not using it, you idiot. There was no other way you were getting out alive from that.”

“Wait, twelve years?” Merlin hurries to reach him and walks beside him. His tone isn’t teasing anymore, stained with worry instead. “Arthur, how…?”

He stops and turns to Merlin. “Look, someone died trying to help me years ago, someone I cared about. I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt so I just… stopped using it. I’m actually surprised I used it just now.”

Merlin stops too and looks at him carefully. “Can I ask who it was?”

“A serving girl, she was in charge of taking care of me most days when I was a child. I accidentally revealed it to her and she tried to get me a spellbook so I could get better.” He sighs. “They caught her at night with the spellbook in her hands and executed her the next day. It was the first execution I attended.”

Merlin raises a hand, tentatively reaching for his arm. “Arthur…”

“Merlin, just,” he grabs Merlin’s wrist instead and holds it tightly, looking intently into Merlin’s eyes, “don’t talk about it, ever. You’re the only one I trust with this, but I don’t want you to get killed. I can’t have my only friend executed again.”

Just as he says this they look down at his hand, which has now slipped further down to hold Merlin’s hand loosely. When he realizes he tries to pull it away, embarrassed, but Merlin pulls back and squeezes it tightly. “Alright,” he says, looking up to Arthur’s eyes and smiling before letting go of his hand. “Thank you for trusting in me.”

“Thank you for keeping my secret,” he answers, smiling. “Now let’s go before we get ambushed again, yeah?”

* * *

“I should quit,” Merlin says stubbornly, sorting through Arthur’s closet. “You don’t even need a servant, you could just do everything I do with magic.”

Merlin hadn’t understood the ‘don’t talk about it’ part of the deal.

“Not really. I can’t make food materialize in front of me, or muck out the stables.”

“_Yet,_” Merlin points out. 

He laughs. “Come on, being my servant isn’t _ that _ bad.”

Merlin turns around hastily, making the shirt in his hand flap around. “I just almost died last week! Just one of _ several _ times I’ve almost died, too.”

“I saved you!”

“And you haven’t let me forget about it, oh no.” Merlin walks to him with his shirt in hand. “Is it because it’s all you can do? Shove things and stop them?”

“What? No, come on,” Arthur stands from his chair so Merlin can dress him. “I can do other stuff, I just… don’t remember them well.”

“Oh yeah?” Merlin looks at him with his hands on his hips, condescending. “Like what?”

“Well, I only practiced for a year, so it’s not much,” Arthur says, “but I can make small flames and lights. And I can move things if I really concentrate on it.”

“Show me.”

“I can’t, _Merlin._ What if someone comes in?”

“They always knock. I’m more worried about you setting something on fire, but it’s worth the risk.”

“Father doesn’t, and we both know he’s the real threat here.” He stares at Merlin, but his friend doesn’t budge. He scoffs. “Oh, alright. If something goes wrong it’s your fault.”

Merlin smiles cheekily. “High risk, high reward.”

Arthur turns on his side and holds his hand out, taking a deep breath as he closes his eyes. He only hopes he remembers the spell right and doesn’t carbonize them to death.

_ “_ _Forbearnan_ _.” _

After a few seconds, he feels a gentle heat on the palm of his hand and he opens his eyes to see a small flame floating just above his hand. Merlin gasps beside him, seeming like he’s about to start jumping on one foot.

“Arthur, that’s amazing! Is that the biggest you can make it?”

“Yes,” he says, closing his fist to extinguish the flame. “I couldn’t learn much about magic before what happened to Aria. Moving things was the most complex thing I achieved and I only did it a few times.”

“Haven’t you tried reading books about it? I’m sure there are some around in the library.”

“They’re forbidden, Merlin. They wouldn’t want anyone getting their hands on books about magic so easily.”

“Arthur, you’re the Crown Prince of Camelot. You could definitely take them out.” Arthur shakes his head, but Merlin raises an eyebrow at him. “Come on, you should at least know the basics. You can’t keep pretending you don’t have magic until you’re crowned King.”

He sits down on the table again and starts eating his breakfast. “There’s nothing I could do about it even if I’m the King, Merlin.”

“What? Why not?” Merlin leans into the side of the table as he watches him eat. “You can repeal the ban on magic and work towards peace with sorcerers, it’s not impossible.”

“I can’t just… reveal my magic once I’m crowned, people won’t trust someone who’s been hiding their true nature all their lives.” He shrugs. “And pretty much everyone’s against magic, so there isn’t much to be done.”

“Arthur, you can’t be serious.” Merlin crosses his arms over his chest and frowns at him. “Decriminalizing magic would be your best move as a king, just look at how much worse things are now than they were before you were born. And you being a sorcerer would make them trust you, not the opposite. You’d show that magic is good.”

“You really made it sound like me being born was the worst thing to happen to Camelot just now,” he remarks, raising one eyebrow. 

Merlin chuckles and shakes his head, shrugging. “I’m not saying it wasn’t.”

“Merlin!”

“Come on, I’m kidding,” Merlin says, and then his expression turns softer and more serious again. “Not about bringing magic back, though. I truly believe it must be done, for the sake of Camelot.”

Arthur looks down at his meal and shrugs, eating the last of it before pushing the plate away. “I agree, but I can’t reveal my magic even if it’s done. It would bring more problems than solutions.” He sighs and looks up at Merlin. “I’m doomed to live hiding my powers and I’ve learned to live with that, Merlin. It really isn’t an issue.”

“Arthur, no,” Merlin leans forward and places his hands over Arthur’s hand, pressing it against the table softly. “Your magic is part of you, it’s a piece of who you are. You can’t hide it forever.” He squeezes Arthur’s hand reassuringly and looks into his eyes. “You’re not doomed, Arthur. If anyone can do this it’s you, and I know you’ll make it. I’ll make sure of that.”

Merlin’s eyes are oddly comforting, like gentle waves on a crystalline lake, and Arthur finds himself lost for a moment before the weight of Merlin’s words hits him. He’s promising to be there with him, showing that he truly believes in Arthur, telling him that his magic isn’t something that he can just hide. He feels his chest swell with warmth as he smiles at his friend, filled with hope and another feeling he can’t quite describe.

“Alright then,” he says, and then he nods. “Thank you, Merlin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Likes and comments are insanely appreciated <3
> 
> Also, you might be able to tell from the tags but this is supposed to lead to them getting together later. I'm still deciding on whether I'll write something else in this AU for that, but for now, this is it. Hope you liked it :)


End file.
